Minutes and Counting (A Stream of Consciousness
by Cloe
Summary: PG-13 for language, darkness, violence and weirdness. Like it says in the name a stream of consciousness from a strangeish POV, it has a sequel of sorts, um yeah


42 minutes and counting   
  
I slowly hum "Grandma got run over by a Reindeer" and watch the world, simplified into an airport terminal, rush around me knowing that in 42 minutes and counting their world will be thrown upside down, inside out and obliterated in one foul swoop. I smile grimly and contemplate when exactly He will come.   
  
40 minutes and counting.   
  
Hmmmm what to do after they know, after they know whom will be controlling their lives for the rest of all time. I snort with barely contained laughter causing the woman with three little brats to inch back in her seat, I grin mirthlessly at her children hoping that maybe I'll traumatize one of them and that maybe someday they will look back and think "That boy in the airport frightened me and I don't know why"   
  
Who is He kidding anyway? No one but Himself really, Himself and those simple weak-minded fools who follow him. I don't follow him I'm just biding my time until even He is gone. Which will be sooner then anyone thinks. I smirk, Oh yeah His time is going to be very very short, and then.... I even know who the next is going to be, I grin. Oh she will need my help, I 'll have to prod her and push her or hold her back if the timings' wrong, but..... I glance at my watch, shit only 24 minutes now, what have I been doing slacking off, I'd better watch my step or I may just walk myself right off the preverbal cliff.   
  
23 minutes and counting.  
  
How did I get myself into this mess? Oh yeah because I'm too damn nosy for my own good. Its a damn fine good thing I'm such a fast talker and I think on my feet, otherwise I'd be dead. And sometimes that doesn't seems so bad.   
  
19 minutes and counting  
  
Sigh I don't even know why I let him think I was going to be on his side, I mean wasn't I blatantly obvious when I insulted him up and down the street? Or how about when I said 'You'll never get me to become your little minion' and then said 'oh screw it I have nothing better to do' Doesn't that seem obvious to you, that I didn't really care about him or his 'cause'. I actually find it and him quite boring, 'kill this, kill that, kill them, put my mark up in the air to give them the heeby jeebies' well okay he didn't actually say that but it would have been damned funny if he did. Speaking of funny I think his one redeeming quality is his sense of humor, I mean irony gotta love it. Thats why when he goes down in the tubes I will laugh at the bitter irony of it all. Humor and maybe the way he can be so fucking regal. Now that takes work. His arrogance I could do without, plus he doesn't exactly lead the cream of the crop either. I shake my head slowly, rejects being commanded by a sociopath who fancies himself a God. Oh heaven help us, he's so scary. Heavy sarcasm for those of you who didn't catch that.  
  
10 minutes and counting.  
  
Oh good he's here, now I can leave. But first I have to make sure, don't want to make a mistake now do I? As if I couldn't tell it was him or not, please I'm not that stupid. I get up and walk towards the gate where a perfectly normal and utterly boring family of three are waiting. I push past the horse like mother who is a sickly thin, you know if the air conditioning blew at her the wrong way she would topple over. I elbow the fat father in the stomach, I don't believe he even noticed. Then the beastly little demon child is right in front of me. He leers at me in a way I'm guessing he thinks is friendly or scary, I really can't tell which, all it makes me want to do is wretch.  
  
"Get out of my way little pig," I say.   
  
"Ahh come on, and have a look at my expensive computer," he replies in a gravely, hoarse voice evidentially trying to be captivating.   
  
"Get out of my way you tub of lard before I blow your innards all over the walls." I slip my wand down out of my pocket a little so he can see it. His eyes flicker downward and back up to my face where I am now the one leering.   
  
"Eh what do you say to that Dudley?   
  
"You-your a- mommmmmmmmmmmmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!" He wailes piteously and waddles off to his horsy mother.  
  
"Heh good riddance to you, prig."  
  
I walk over to the tousled black haired youth, who is wearing the ugliest glasses I have ever seen. I walk right up to him push his bangs back and see the tell-tail scar, he is just completely frozen in shock at my gall. I step back, cross my arms, and look at him. He looks back still dumbfounded.   
  
8 minutes and counting.  
  
"Look as fun as it is standing here and looking at you, lets just get down too it shall we?"  
  
I walk up very close to him and whisper in his ear, "They're watching you, they're going to get you, and when they do I'll shake my head in exasperation."   
  
Let me just stop right here and say effect is everything. I turned, walked away and was swallowed up by the crowd. I doubled back and saw he was mouthing the word 'What?' in confusion. I smile grimly again, I've done what I've come here to do. I have planted the seed of doubt and guilt. Now to revel in it.   
  
5 minutes and counting.   
  
Wow I'm early, not bad for a days work if I do say so myself. I saunter out of the airport I notice the crowd has shifted ever so slightly so as to walk around me. I idly wonder if the dark mark, livid against the very pale skin on my inner left arm, is any reason why.  
  
1 minute and counting  
  
As soon as his plane is safely up in the air, I impliment the plan.  
  
Done.  
  
Crrrrrraaaaaaaack, booooooooom, booooooooooooom, booooooooooom, booooooooooooom.   
  
The red flames of the explosion rip into crisp night air, they lick at the sky tempting it to follow it and fall to its death and damnation. In that sky flies a plane, a plane with a boy on it, a boy who will forever believe that this is his fault, and thats exactly what He was hoping for.   



End file.
